Luke recalled the cemetery where two sets of brothers had once played pirates with one another and a stab of grief struck without warning.
“My sweet girl.” He buried his face in the caressing strands of her golden hair. “My love.”
In between tears and kisses pressed onto his chin and lips and neck, and then lips again, she chanted his name. Time stood still as each of them absorbed the other, offering comfort for the lost months of loneliness and fear.
When she exhaled a tremulous breath, Luke drew away and stared into her eyes. With a sad smile, he brought his hand up and cradled the side of her face. “Lydia told me.”
“She’s been wonderful.” Unshed tears wavered in her stormy blue gaze but she blinked them away. “I can’t believe you are here.”
Later, he would explain to her how the ship had arrived before dawn and that he hadn’t been able to keep himself away even another day. For now, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips trembled beneath his as he reacquainted himself with her taste, which mingled with the salt of her tears.
Nothing would come between them again, Luke vowed silently.
She buried her face in his chest, unsteady, and he tightened his arms around her. Their love affair was not a normal one, but it would be everlasting. The two of them had a lifetime to make up for all they had missed.
“When did you arrive?” She sent him a sweet smile, but a shiver ran through her and her hand shook as she reached up to brush some hair away from her face. “I only sent the letter a few days ago.”
She was nervous. Not afraid but not as comfortable with him as she’d been before.
He drew them both away from the banks of the pool to where a grassy patch grew at the base of a large oak. “Let’s sit.”
Luke made himself comfortable leaning against the trunk, and then bent his knees, feet apart as she arranged her skirts around herself a few feet away. When she glanced over at him, he shook his head. “Come here. I need to hold you.” He indicated the space between his legs.
“I wasn’t sure…” She swallowed hard and gave him a tight smile before moving closer. “So much has happened, and last December seems like a lifetime ago. I got a letter from my parents. Since the War Office won’t be sending a widow’s pension, Tempest insists I have an annuity, and he says Milton cottage is mine, but I’m not going to keep the house—I doubt I’ll have need of it. It could end up costing me more to keep it standing and I’m not even certain it’s safe. I can’t have that—for Amelia, you know—"
“God, I’ve missed this,” Luke growled from where he rested his chin on her shoulder.
“I’m nervous.” She admitted, turning her head so that she could look at him. “I wasn’t sure,” she repeated. Neither of them could have been one hundred percent certain. But they had both loved. They had both promised. And they had both hoped.
In answer, Luke touched his lips to hers softly. “I worried like hell that you would regret marrying me.”
“Never.” She answered. “I told him. I told Arthur about us on his last day. He confessed that he hadn’t signed the certificate. He said he was waiting to secure my dowry. He intended to sign it after speaking with my father. But he—”
“Ran out of time.”
“Yes.” She glanced down but then took a deep breath and looked up again. “But I told him you and I married, that you did so in order to protect Amelia… and me.”
“And because I loved you,” Luke said. He never wanted her to doubt the motivation behind his proposal. Of course, he would have protected her child and her reputation, but he’d meant every word he’d said in that tiny church when he’d married her. “I’ve been in love with you since before we met. Did you know that?” He nuzzled his lips along her delicate jaw. “Before I’d even finagled an introduction, I overheard you laughing. It was the most joyful, delightful sound I’d ever heard. When I turned and caught sight of you for the first time, I was ruined. Utterly ruined for all other women.”
Naomi tilted her head back, allowing his lips to trail kisses down her neck. “I didn’t know.”
Luke groaned. “Never doubt my love.”
“I won’t,” she promised. Tasting her, holding her, was like coming home. Her hand grazed the material covering his thighs. “You are not wearing your uniform.”
Luke inhaled a cleansing breath. “I am no longer Major Lucas Cockfield.”
“Simply Lord Lucas, again?”
“To match my Lady Lucas.” Luke liked the sound of that.
“What did Blackheart say about it?”
“My brother... simply asked what was needed from him to fix up my estate. He wishes us well.” Luke swallowed emotion that welled at the mention of that conversation. “Said he was proud of me.”
“He is a good man.”
Luke closed his eyes. “He is.”
As much as Luke esteemed his brother, he didn’t wish to speak of Blackheart in that moment. Not when he had Naomi in his arms. He’d waited a lifetime to have her.
He slid his hands down her arms, embracing her from behind. “God, Naomi, I missed you.” First, they had been friends, then they’d become lovers, and for a brief moment, they had stood in a church together as man and wife.
And then… nothing. He’d gone away and, on his return, had hardly even been allowed to acknowledge her.
He’d been unable to bask in her smile, to talk with her privately, to listen to her laugh. It had been impossible to touch his lips to hers or openly show her affection in any way.
And he hadn’t made love to her in nearly ten months.
It was time, and he would reveal the depths of his emotions to her in the best way he knew how—the way he’d ached to. It had been so long for both of them. Too long.
She made a mewling sound, one he remembered from sharing her bed and burrowed into him. “There is nothing between us now.” She murmured.
“Nothing.”
But he was surprised when she giggled. “I mean.” She drew one of his hands lower, to her midsection. “No little cantaloupe.”
He hadn’t even noticed the difference. But now, the joyful ring of her laughter had him chuckling. He had craved her voice, her touch, her smile—he had craved this joy. Awed at what life had in store for him, he opened his hand and covered her belly. Not at all as he remembered from before. Slightly rounded though, and soft. He palmed his way upward and cradled the weight of her breast. Heavier. Her uniquely feminine flesh filled his hand, giving him all sorts of carnal ideas. “I have the opportunity to learn your body all over again.”
As he watched her neck and cheeks flush a pretty pink, blood surged to his groin.
Ten months had passed since he’d made love to her. Ten months of waiting, of worrying.
Of wanting.
The thought of being with her again sent his heart racing. “Are you still nervous?”
“No.” And then, “A little.”
Luke dropped his legs and lifted her onto his lap, sideways. “I believe then, Lady Lucas, that we must reacquaint ourselves with one another.”
Staring into his eyes, she nodded. “I am being silly.”
“You are being honest.” She never need hide anything from him. “Your feelings aren’t silly, love. They are yours, your truth. Never apologize for sharing them with me, never.”
* * *
Naomi gazed back at Luke and was reminded of how he’d assured her that she must grieve in her own way. Despite the mistakes she’d made last year, he’d done nothing but provide his support, his protection, and then later, his love.
“I’m not nervous anymore, Luke.” She took it upon herself to reassure him this time, reaching her arms up to twine around his neck. All she wanted in that moment was to be as close to him as possible.
Pressing her mouth against his, her first thought was that he tasted of the outdoors. Firm, but then his lips softened and parted, and the familiarity of his taste both comforted and excited her.
With
out breaking the kiss, Luke grasped hold of her thigh and shifted her so that she straddled him.
He’d said they needed to reacquaint themselves with one another. He was correct. She loved him with every fiber of her being despite the distance of the past year or the pain of his absence. Perhaps she loved him even more for having suffered it.
But they would come to know one another, as only husband and wife are privy to. They would share their thoughts, their emotions. Their bodies. One flesh.
Their hands tangled with one another while she reached to unfasten his falls and he tugged at the material of her dress.
They sighed at the same time, when skin touched skin. She lifted herself and hovered. Luke stroked himself at her opening. She was wet, slick. Ready for him. She relaxed her weight and impaled herself on him.
She heard and felt his moan at the same time she released one of her own.
“Luke.” Had he made her feel this whole before? He lifted her slowly and then lowered her again. Her spine turned to jelly as he moved beneath her. And then they were both moving.
“I can’t last long,” he breathed. “You feel too damn good.”
He slowed, staring into her eyes, holding her gaze, hiding nothing of his feelings, pushing up, penetrating her, claiming her.
“I love you.” His voice rasped.
“Love you.” Naomi could barely hold her head up as sensations and emotions overwhelmed every part of her person. “Love you.”
She went to close her eyes, but he stopped her with his voice. “Stay with me.”
He pistoned his hips up and her eyes rolled back. Still, she forced herself to fight the heaviness and meet his gaze. “With you.” She exhaled, gasping as he stroked inside of her.
Tingling spread from her chest to her arms and even her fingertips as she rode him. When she finally closed her eyes, intoxicated by her surge of release, white stars flooded her vision.
Luke thrust deep, deeper, grasping her hips against his, and then with a guttural sound, surrendered to his own release.
Words were not necessary as they clung to one another, catching their breath, listening to the sounds of their heartbeats returning to normal and the thrumming of the waterfall landing in the pool.
“This was the first time with my husband,” Naomi finally murmured, smiling as she rested her cheek against his chest.
“As my wife.” Luke’s voice rumbled beneath her.
“Lady Lucas.” And then she leaned back. “I don’t want to wait. We’ve waited long enough already.” But they could not simply tell the world they were married.
Luke’s gaze met hers. “You are willing to accept possible ridicule?”
Her parents were finally prepared to acknowledge her again. “If they love me, if they wish to know their grandchildren, they will have to make their own decision. We’ve already waited too long, Luke.”
“You are certain?” Brilliant sapphire eyes studied hers.
“I am.”
He slowly stretched his mouth into a grin. “Shall we have the banns read this Sunday then?”
“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “It’s time.”
Epilogue
Barely three weeks later, on a warm October Sunday afternoon, Naomi watched as her husband, Lord Lucas Cockfield, signed their marriage certificate with an unusually elaborate flourish.
The vicar slid the parchment across the smooth table and she glanced over at her husband with a secret smile.
It was not the first time she’d signed such a document, but she intended that it would most definitely be the last.
She signed her legal name, Naomi Catherine Augustine. Following months of waiting, she and Luke could finally, officially, belong to one another.
“Well, Lady Lucas.” Luke removed the pen from her hand and passed it along to the same two witnesses who’d stood up for them last year. Luke took her into his arms. “I hope you have nothing planned for the next fifty or sixty years, because I have grand plans for the three of us.”
“Or four?” she teased.
“Or more,” he agreed.
The ceremony, which had been held in the 500-year-old chapel that was the cornerstone of the local village, had been small but all the people who mattered had been in attendance and awaited them outside.
Three of whom were Naomi’s very own family.
After a few uncomfortable conversations, the rift between Naomi and her father was well on the way to being healed. Her mother, sister, and brother had secretly supported her all along and had been unwilling to allow the rift to persist—despite Naomi ignoring the rules of mourning. Now, having met little Amelia, there was little chance they would allow her to keep away in the future. Naomi’s daughter, with her hair that was turning more blonde with each passing day and her smiling chestnut eyes so very reminiscent of her father’s, had captured everyone’s hearts and she showed no signs of setting them free anytime soon.
In addition to Blackheart and his new duchess, Lucinda and her young husband were in attendance as was, of course, Lydia.
The most surprising guest of all was Lord Tempest. Strictly out of courtesy, Naomi had sent an invitation to Galewick Manor but she had not really expected a response. Arthur’s brother had returned a carefully worded response that stated he would be honored to attend.
For legal purposes, Luke had told Arthur’s brother everything.
Somber as ever, Lord Tempest had sat beside Lydia throughout the ceremony. As executor of Arthur’s estate, it had been necessary that he learn the truth of Arthur’s deceptions as well as the private wedding ceremony last December. He’d informed Luke that he would attend on behalf of himself and his mother.
“Are you ready?” Luke flicked his gaze toward the doors.
“Should we make a mad dash? Or shall we stroll outside looking dignified in the face of an onslaught of petals?” Naomi grinned back up at him. No matter how many times she stared at this man, she found it hard to believe he had come into her life at the time when she needed him most.
She’d always considered him the most handsome man of her acquaintance, but today, on their wedding day, he truly was beautiful.
Naomi realized she had Blackheart to thank that her husband had decided against wearing his normal black coat and hat in favor of a jacket and embroidered waistcoat that were nearly the identical color of his eyes. The lace at his wrists, along with matching tailored britches and buckled shoes provided the magnificence one would expect of the second son of a duke.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are yet?” He leaned down. The gravelly tone of his voice sent familiar heat flowing through her. Tonight, would not be the first night that the two of them made love, but it was the first time they could do so without meeting furtively. This would be the first time she could wake in his arms since they’d been together at Milton Cottage.
“I’m not nearly as beautiful as my groom,” she teased him and then thrilled at the growling sound he made near her ear.
“Brace yourselves.” Blackheart stood at the door, one hand prepared to open it for them.
She was so happy. So very happy. She smiled over at Luke’s brother. “Thank you—for everything.” Without the assistance of her brother-in-law, she wondered if any of this would have been possible.
But Luke’s hand rested on the small of her back.
It would have been possible. They would have found their way to one another. Because their hope and love had been self-perpetuating.
Her most distinguished brother-in-law sent her an unexpected wink the moment before he pushed open the door, permitting sunshine to flood the vestibule.
With laughter bubbling past her lips, she clasped her husband’s hand as he led her into the shower of orange and yellow petals—some falling from the sky and some pummeling them from the crowd directly. Far more onlookers awaited them than she’d expected. Local villagers and servants, those who merely wished to celebrate their union for the sake of celebrating love.
Out of
the corner of her eye, she caught sight of her baby girl in the arms of her own mother, looking startled and entranced by the sudden explosion of delicate petals in the air. She and Luke would take one week to themselves in Brighton before returning to collect their daughter and then traveling to his estate in Kent.
In a gesture to put the past firmly behind them, Naomi had transferred ownership of Milton Cottage to Bridget. It was the least Naomi could do. Whereas she had a beautiful daughter, husband, and family, Bridget yet mourned the loss of her lover alone.
But for the grace of God, she’d explained to Luke, it could have been her.
“Shall we?”
Luke assisted her onto the open barouche provided by Blackheart and settled her into the seat comfortably. The new duchess had insisted on hosting a formal wedding breakfast, and afterward, she and Luke would depart for their short honeymoon.
As the driver pulled away, an obnoxious sound of clutter dragging behind the vehicle besieged them. All she could do was laugh.
“I love you with all my heart, husband.” She rested her head against the arm he’d dropped behind her.
“My wife. Always mine.” He claimed her lips. What had been meant to be was finally true. “No more waiting.”
She shook her head. It was time to live.
THE END
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